


Wisdom

by cinnabongene



Category: Breaking Bad, Breaking Bad & Related Fandoms
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff, M/M, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7345231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnabongene/pseuds/cinnabongene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter and Jesse spend a little quality time together after Jesse has his wisdom teeth removed. Takes place in season 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wisdom

This was the fourth time today Walt had caught Jesse standing around, rubbing his jaw instead of cooking. “Jesse! What’s wrong with you? We’re on a tight schedule, remember?” he snapped. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. White. I’m just—my mouth has been really hurting lately.” 

“Your mouth?” 

“Yeah, like in the back of my gums. And I keep getting these sinus headaches. I dunno, maybe I just need to floss more or something.” 

“Sinus headaches?” asked Walt, then suddenly he put the pieces together. But the boy couldn’t possibly be that oblivious, could he? “Jesse, have you had your wisdom teeth out yet?” 

“No, what’s that got to do with sinus headaches though?” 

“Plenty. Open your mouth; let me see,” said Walter. 

Jesse took a step backwards. “No way, yo. How gay are you?”

“Just let me look. I’m trying to help you.” 

“My teeth are none of your business, bitch.” 

“When they’re affecting how you cook, they are very much my business,” Walter insisted. “Come on.”

By this point, he had backed Jesse up against the wall, so the younger man gave in and opened his mouth. Walt grabbed a flashlight from the shelf next to them and shined it into his partner’s mouth. Just as he had suspected, the back of his gums were red and swollen, and in some parts, bits of tooth were starting to poke through. “Jesse, you can’t just ignore these things,” he sighed. 

“So, like, what’s gonna happen to me?” Jesse asked. 

“You’re going to have to have them taken out. Surgery.” 

“Come on, man. Seriously?”

“Yes, man. Seriously.”

“Aren’t they like supposed to be there though? Like why would we grow something if it wasn’t supposed to be there?” Jesse asked. 

“The human jaw has evolved to be smaller over time. There isn’t room for them anymore, so they often become impacted, like yours. I suppose you didn’t pay attention in your biology class either.” 

Jesse groaned. “Shit, this is like, the last thing I need right now.” 

“Well,” said Walter, walking back towards their work station. “If you help me finish this batch instead of complaining for the rest of the day, you’ll have more than enough money to pay for it.”

Later that week, Walter was just about to climb into bed when his cellphone rang. Looking at the caller ID, he saw it was Jesse, and sighed. What could he possibly want at this hour? Still, it must be important, so he answered it. “What is it, Jesse?”

“Hey, Mr. White…” The kid almost sounded nervous. “I was wondering, what are you doing Saturday evening?” 

“I’m having dinner with my family. Why?” 

“Oh. See, I scheduled my wisdom teeth surgery thing for that day, but I kinda forgot that I can’t drive myself, ‘cause of the anesthesia or whatever. I already tried Skinny Pete and Badger, but they’re gonna be busy. But that’s okay, I guess I’ll just reschedule.” 

“Alright,” said Walter, unsure what else the boy wanted him to say. 

“They did say they don’t have another appointment for a few weeks though, and I don’t want it to get infected or some shit…” Jesse trailed off. 

Walter sighed. “Jesse, are you asking me to drive you?” 

“Could you?” 

Walter closed his eyes and was silent for a moment. “Fine. What time should I pick you up?” 

 

“Skyler?” Walt asked as his estranged wife picked up her cell phone. 

“What is it, Walt?” she asked. Even over the phone he could practically see the annoyance on her face. 

“I’m going to have to cancel coming over for dinner on Saturday,” he replied. 

“I don’t see why you insist on being allowed over if you’re not even going to show up,” she said. 

“Look, Skyler. It’s not like I don’t want to be there. I really do. It’s just—something came up.” 

“Something more important than spending time with your children? Walt Jr. won’t stop asking me when you’re going to come over again, you know that, right?” 

Walt was getting frustrated now. “If you must know, I’m driving my meth cooking partner to get his wisdom teeth out. Are you happy now?” 

Skyler furrowed her brow. “Wisdom teeth? How old is—” But Walter had already hung up. 

 

Saturday afternoon, Walt pulled up to Jesse’s house, right on time. The front door opened within seconds; Jesse must have been waiting for him. As he opened the passenger side door and got in, Walt fixed him with a gaze of scrutiny. “Don’t look at me like that. I said I could reschedule. You’re the one who offered to do this,” snapped Jesse as he buckled his seat belt. 

“Jesse, I never thought I’d be asking this, but why aren’t you high?” said Walter. 

“I’m clean, man. I told you. I ain’t taking that pre-med shit.”

Walter internally groaned. “Jesse, you have to take it. They’re going to put you on painkillers afterwards anyway. I promise this won’t make you relapse.”

“I’ll be fine, man. Just drive,” said Jesse, avoiding eye contact. 

“I’m not going anywhere until you go get the pills they prescribed you. Come on, son,” Walt insisted. 

“Jesus, fine. But if I have to go back to rehab, it’s on your bill, yo.” The younger man got back out of the car and stormed into his house, returning with a single tablet of diazepam in a little orange bottle. 

Walt handed him the unopened water bottle he had sitting in the cup holder and watched as Jesse swallowed down the pill.

“There, you happy?” Jesse asked. 

Walt nodded and started up the car. 

 

After an hour and a half of flipping through magazines in the waiting room, the nurses finally led a stumbling, swollen-faced Jesse out to Walt. The sight initially brought a flit of panic to Walter’s chest; the last time he had seen Jesse so out of it, the poor kid had been on heroin. 

When he reached Walter, Jesse immediately gripped the man’s arm with both of his hands to keep from falling over. The nurse’s instructions were all a blur to Jesse; all that he could be certain was real was Mr. White’s strong, steady form keeping him grounded. 

On the car ride home, Walter suddenly remembered his partner’s housing situation. “Jesse?” he asked the young man, currently fixated by the clouds passing by the window. “Jesse, do you have a bed at home, or a couch, or anything other than a sleeping bag?”

Jesse shook his head and kept staring outside. 

Walt sighed. He couldn’t leave to poor kid to sleep on the floor, not like this. He was suddenly struck with the image of Jesse laying on his back and choking to death on a mouthful of his own blood and saliva, just like—

“I’m going to take you back to my place, alright, son. Just until you’re well enough to be on your own. Is that alright?” Walt asked. He took Jesse’s lack of a response for a yes. 

Walter opened the door to his condo with one hand and supported the weight of Jesse Pinkman with the other arm. “Easy now, let’s just get to the couch,” said Walt, relieved when Jesse let go and sunk down onto the cushions. Walt stooped down to be at the boy’s eye level. “Are you feeling alright? Is there anything I can get you?” 

Jesse tried to speak, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a stream of bloody saliva rolled from his lower lip. Seeing as most of his face was completely numb, Jesse was only alerted to this fact by the drip, drip sound as it hit Mr. White’s floor. He looked down at the blood and then back up at Mr. White, horror and apology written in his wide, blue eyes. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Walt assured, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.” He brought over a paper towel to clean up the spilled blood and any further messes. “Now, the doctor said to remove your gauze when we got home. I don’t quite suppose you’re up to doing that yourself?”

Jesse shot him an apologetic look. 

“It’s alright, son.” Walter folded up a paper towel and laid it on the table next to them. “Open up for me, as wide as you can. There we go.” 

Jesse obliged and let Mr. White reach his fingers into his mouth to extract the blood soaked gauze. He didn’t know if it was the drugs they had him on or what, but something about Mr. White willingly sticking his fingers into his disgusting mouth made Jesse feel a bit woozy, but not in an entirely bad way. 

Mr. White wiped Jesse’s blood off of his hands with the paper towel and then dabbed Jesse’s lips clean. “I’m going to go wash my hands, son. Is there anything you need? Water? I’m afraid I don’t have any soft foods on hand, but I could go get some for you.” 

Jesse cleared his throat. “You’ve got water, yo? That’s… that’s tight…” 

Walter nodded. “I’ll bring you some water.” 

“This place is nice,” Jesse slurred, when Walter returned with the glass of water. “Where are we? Like a five star hotel er something?” 

“It’s just my condo,” said Walt, handing Jesse the glass.

“Wow, thanks, yo. This water looks like… really clear.” Jesse held the glass up to his mouth, but unable to feel anything, spilled most of it down his chin. “Aww fuck, sorry, Mr. White.” 

“It’s alright, Jesse,” said Walter, taking the glass from the boy and lining it up to his mouth properly. “Let’s try again. Slowly now.” 

“Yo, you should get your like pipes checked out. That water tastes like, like blood, yo,” Jesse reported when he had finished drinking. 

“You’ve still got blood in your mouth. That will go away soon. Why don’t you lie down? Try to get some rest.”

“Here? I can’t sleep here, yo. This is a couch. Beds are for sleeping,” Jesse slurred.

“You’ll be fine here, Jesse,” said Walt. 

“I bet yer bed’s like, real nice, yo. Like, like a cloud. Like a sheep.” 

Walter sighed. “Come on, get up,” he said, grabbing Jesse by his shoulders. When he looked the boy in the eyes again, he was shocked to see they were filling with tears. 

“’m sorry, Mr. White. Please don’ kick me out. I—I don’t know where to go,” he blabbered. 

Walter hardly ever got to see such earnest emotion, such unguarded fear in his partner’s eyes. It nearly broke his heart. “I’m not kicking you out, son. Follow me.” Once again, Jesse wrapped himself around Walter’s arm, as the older man led the way to his bedroom. 

Once there, Walt lowered Jesse onto the bed and knelt down in front of him. Jesse’s eyes went wide in anticipation. “Yo… are you gonna—?” 

Walter grabbed Jesse by the ankle and pulled off his shoe, which was thankfully tied as loosely as the rest of the boy’s clothes fit. “Am I going to what?”

“Nuh—never mind.” 

Walt stood up and pulled the covers back for Jesse. “Alright, get in and get some rest. You can call for me if you need anything.” 

As he settled himself into Mr. White’s bed, Jesse looked up with placating, foggy eyes. “Aren’t you gonna get in too?” 

Walt held back a chuckle at that one. “No. I’ll be right out in the living room.” 

“Please, stay… least ‘til I fall asleep,” said Jesse. 

Walter sighed and took a seat on the edge of the bed next to the boy, who turned so his blue eyes looked up into Mr. White’s green ones. 

“You’re like real cool, Mr. White, you know that? Like no one’s ever been like, this nice to me before.”

Walter placed a hand on Jesse’s arm, but looked to the side. “Thank you, son.” 

He felt Jesse sit up. “No, man, like, I mean it. Like… like I’d be dead without you, like so many times. You just… you make me feel good. Like, when I look at you it’s like… like all these little mice are in my heart.” 

Walter turned his gaze back to Jesse, whose face was now only about a foot away from his. “Mice?”

“Yeah, like they’re fuzzy and crawl around and it feels warm.” 

The two men stared at one another for a silent moment before Jesse leaned in and pressed his numb, cracked lips to Walter’s soft, unsuspecting ones.

Walter pulled away, too quickly. “Jesse… you’re not coherent. You don’t know what you’re doing.” 

The blue eyes began to fill with tears again. “’If you don’ like me just say it, b—bitch.” 

Walter couldn’t help reaching out to wipe a stray tear from the boy’s cheek. “Jesse, no. It’s not that. It’s just… we’ll talk about it when you’re sober, okay?” 

Before Walt knew it, Jesse had thrown his arms around him. “Please stay,” he murmured into the sleeve of the older man’s shirt. 

And remembering the broken look in those blue eyes, Walter kicked off his own shoes and climbed into bed next to his partner, wrapping one arm securely around him. “Is this okay?” he asked.

Jesse’s only response was to nestle even closer into Mr. White’s chest and bury his face in the man’s shoulder. “You smell nice,” he murmured into the fabric. And then, after a moment of silence, a drowsy and intoxicated: “Love you, Mr. White.” 

Walter brought his hand up to Jesse’s head and gently stroked the boy’s hair for a few moments. Then, he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss into his partner’s forehead. “Goodnight, Jesse.”


End file.
